Surely the cyclometer is a Darwinite development of a spider, who is always at circles, and always begins again when his web is brushed away. He informs you that he {342} has been privileged to discover truths unknown to the scientific world. This we know; but he proceeds to show that he is equally fortunate in art. He goes on to say that he will make use of you to bring those truths to light, "just as an artist makes use of a dummy for the purpose of arranging his drapery." The painter's lay-figure is for flowing robes; the hairdresser's dummy is for curly locks. Mr. James Smith should read Sam Weller's pathetic story of the "four wax dummies." As to _his_ use of a dummy, it is quite correct. When I was at University College, I walked one day into a room in which my Latin colleague was examining. One of the questions was, "Give the lives and fates of Sp. Maelius,[644] and Sp. Cassius."[645] Umph! said I, surely all know that Spurius Maelius was whipped for adulterating flour, and that Spurius Cassius was hanged for passing bad money. Now, a robe arranged on a dummy would look just like the toga of Cassius on the gallows. Accordingly, Mr. Smith is right in the drapery-hanger which he has chosen: he has been detected in the attempt to pass bad circles. He complains bitterly that his geometry, instead of being read and understood by you, is handed over to me to be treated after my scurrilous fashion. It is clear enough that he would rather be handled in this way than not handled at all, or why does he go on writing? He must know by this time that it is a part of the institution that his "untruthful and absurd trash" shall be distilled into mine at the rate of about 3-1/8 pages of the first to one column of the second. Your readers will never know how much they gain by the process, until Mr. James Smith publishes it all in a big book, or until they get hold of what he has already published. I have six pounds avoirdupois of pamphlets and letters; and there is more than half a pound of letters {343} written to you in the last two months. Your compositor must feel aggrieved by the rejection of these clearly written documents, without erasures, and on one side only. Your correspondent has all the makings of a good contributor, except the knowledge of his subject and the sense to get it. He is, in fact, only a mask: of whom the fox "O quanta species, inquit, cerebrum non habet."[646]